One Hour Remains
by InsanitySilver
Summary: An account of Konan's last hour in the Rain Village as she manages the city, prepares to fight Madara, and reflects on both her and Amegakure's history. One-shot.


**One Hour Remains**

**InsanitySilver**

**Rating: **T - for violence

**Genres: **Tragedy, Action

**Disclaimer:** Clearly, I am not Masashi Kishimoto. I'm Tite Kubo.

**A/N: **More of an exploration of the lifestyle Konan had in Amegakure with some of her musings and a dash of action.

* * *

Rain pelted Amegakure's metal plating, maintaining a constant roar. The rain amplified the metallic scent that clung to every structure in the city. It smelled like blood, and given the city's turbulent history, that was fitting. The scent had a way of invading your body, seeping deep into your lungs and filling your mouth until you could taste the iron. Most visitors found it uncomfortable, but Amegakure rarely had visitors.

With relentless thunderstorms and both intimidating buildings and people, the city didn't attract many tourists. And although Amegakure was a ninja village, the Land of Rain wasn't strong, so the surrounding countries never paid the city much attention. It worked to their advantage. For fifteen years Amegakure kept their civil war a secret from the nations; an impressive feat even for shinobi.

Konan padded up the stairs towards the tower's summit. The pounding rain would've masked the sound of her footsteps if she made any. A ninja who couldn't move silently wouldn't live long in Amegakure, so by now it was a reflex. A life of war would instill habits in anyone. You couldn't walk alone without hearing phantom footsteps behind you. Every creaking pipe and moaning support was a potential enemy.

Konan paused for a moment by the window, studying the weather. Indigo clouds mottled the sky, rolling and twisting dangerously. In all her years living in the war-torn city, Konan only saw the sky clear once or twice.

Today was a Sunday. Every Sunday the Deva Path would step out onto the outcropping, messy buildings splayed beneath him. Bird, Rat, Ox, Monkey, Rat then Snake. Those were the seals for Nagato's Rain Tiger at Will Technique. He would raise both hands into damp air, forcing massive amounts of chakra into the atmosphere. There it would combine with the preexisting rain clouds, sending blankets of chakra-infused rain back towards Earth.

Nagato wasn't here anymore. Pain wasn't here, but the villagers didn't know that. She was lucky these past few Sundays; it rained heavily and continuously without any aid, but today that luck may have finally run dry. The shinobi were becoming suspicious. They hadn't felt the chakra in the rain those past Sundays. Rumors were starting to circulate. Even though the civil war ended many years ago, Amegakure was still unstable. Without firm control, war would erupt again. The citizen had to think Pain was still alive, and still a god willing to deal out merciless justice. Quickly, Konan turned from the window and continued up the stairs.

Finally, Konan reached the tower's top. It was an expansive room, but bare of furnishing. Water sloshed through the pipes that webbed down the walls. Despite the water proof treatments, the iron plating was beginning to rust and corrode away. The only distinguishing feature of the room was the large opening on the east side from which snaked a metal tongue.

Konan stared out at the city. Her city. When Nagato was alive, he mainly managed all foreign affairs along with the Akatsuki while she ran internal affairs. Now that he was gone, her work effectively doubled if not tripled. The Raikage called for a meeting of the five Kages. The pieces were in motion. The world was about to change. For better or for worse, she couldn't say. All hope now rested in Naruto Uzamaki.

She paced over to the back wall, lifting her arm so her hand hovered inches away from the dank surface. As soon as she started pushing chakra into the wall, it flowed aside, solid stone rippling like water. The hole expanded, revealing a dim room. Once, Nagato stored the bodies of his Six Paths of Pain here. Now, the coffin-like storage units were rubble. Konan destroyed them herself. It wasn't from some great emotional outburst of rage or grief over Nagato's death. She was protecting him, and what he believed in. Him and Yahiko.

The bodies of the Six Paths were long destroyed, along with their secrets. The only exception being the Deva Path, Yahiko's corpse.

Konan flicked her hand, summoning multiple sheets of paper to drift into the room. Seemingly with a mind of their own, the pages wrapped themselves around the rubble, rustling quietly. With another twist of her wrist, the paper-covered debris lifted off the ground, a feat that would've taken several adult shinobi if done manually. Weightlessly, the rubble glided out of the dark room and even further out over the metal tongue, hanging in empty space.

The kunoichi followed until she stood at the end of the tongue. The farther away her paper flew from her, the harder it was to control and the more chakra it drained. Slowly, she sent the wreckage through the city. The chilling rain started to soak into her clothes, but after all these years, she hardly noticed. The rubble vanished from her line of sight, but she still managed to guide it by sensing the chakra infused in every sheet.

"There," she thought, releasing her control on the pages and allowing the debris to sink deep into the lake, another secret swallowed by the black depths. Konan sighed. Another task completed. With Nagato's and Yahiko's corpses hidden safely in the shrine and all other remnants disposed of, the mysteries of the Six Paths of Pain were now buried. Madara would never reach them.

Konan observed her city in a moment of brief respite. The price of war was poverty, and although the Akatsuki charged large sums for their services, it wasn't enough to drag an entire country out of debt. The pointed skyscrapers thrust into the clouds, creating a jagged skyline that vanished into the rain as it receded. Power lines draped over the dilapidated metal forms, sending electricity to the residents and businesses. Long ago the lake flooded the city, turning the roads into canals and making it impossible to run the lines underground. Power outages were frequent but repaired quickly.

These days the electricity was more unreliable than ever. Konan had pushed for stronger agriculture in the southern lands. The area around Amegakure was too wet to grow anything, and the lands to the north and west were too barren. The southern and eastern lands, however, that bordered the Land of Fire and Land of Rivers, could sustain crops. Nagato argued against farming those lands. They lay directly between the Land of Fire and the Land of Wind. During war times they were the first destroyed in battle, robbed of food, and burned.

Even so, the citizens in the Land of Rain had little choice. Because of the electricity's capriciousness, the inhabitants also relied greatly on oil lamps. The oil was extracted from various types of crops, making strong agriculture a necessity. Large shipments of the oil arrived once a week, sailing in on the river. Konan always received an ample supply of it; it was necessary for her jutsu. Without coating her paper in oil, it couldn't function in the rain.

She breathed deeply, letting the damp air fill her lungs. It felt fresh. How unusual. Normally, the thick air would hang in your chest, weighing you down, but today was different. Unwilling to let the rain soak her even further, Konan stepped inside, shaking some of the droplets off her cloak. She headed back towards the stairs, but paused mid-step.

Saaya.

Saaya was Amegakure's Head of Services. She paced outside the entrance to the north tower using a small umbrella to keep out the rain.

Konan gritted her teeth. Why hadn't she noticed Saaya sooner? Her butterflies covered Amegakure, controlling surveillance in Nagato's absence. Why hadn't they picked up Saaya? Swiftly, Konan twisted her wrist, causing multiple sheets of paper to flock to her.

"All the chakra I've been using recently must be affecting my jutsu," Konan thought, frowning. The paper wrapped around her, clinging to her skin and changing color. As the paper coated her, she became someone else. Konan wasn't sure whose face she had stolen for this transformation jutsu, maybe it was someone she saw in the war, maybe a stranger she passed on the street, maybe it didn't belong to anyone at all. Regardless, it had served well as an alias for many years.

Konan dashed out into the rain, pausing for the briefest moment on the metal tongue before leaping into empty space. The wind and rain whipped around her as she fell, but her paper coating kept it from stinging. With a loud thud, she landed on the roof of the adjacent building, sending a shock all the way up her legs. That wasn't supposed to happen either. Maybe she _was_ slipping.

The kunoichi didn't dwell on that long, instead jumping to the next point. She landed lighter this time, but felt her feet started to slid out from under her. Calmly, she grabbed a pipe and steadied herself. With one last jump, she was on ground level, and a block away from the North Tower's entrance and Saaya. Calmly, Konan strode around the corner, passing several ninja who paid her no mind. Anonymity was what made her alias necessary.

An aging kunoichi with a wide smile but lifeless eyes walked in circles in front of the North Tower, noticing Konan as soon as she rounded the corner.

"Ōkita!" she called, hurrying over to Konan with a grim expression. This wasn't going to be good news.

"An emergency council meeting has been called! You of all people need to be there," she said quietly, keeping the information from anyone who passed by. It was a pointless gesture. The rain had a habit of swallowing noise anyway.

"Yes," Konan said. An emergency council meeting? She didn't have time for this. Nonetheless, she followed Saaya through the narrow streets. The canals were rising; Konan made a note of that. The several times they flowed above the side walls had been disastrous.

"Here," Saaya said, opening the door to a shoddy tea shop. The owner gave them a nod as they headed to the back room. It was furnished completely and had adequate lighting. The only thing it lacked was the other council members.

Without faltering, Saaya continued to the back wall, laying her hand on it. A narrow doorway appeared, and Saaya slipped inside, Konan trailing closely behind.

The Head of Internal Affairs, Head of Development, Treasurer, and Head of Defense already sat around a low table, sipping at watery tea. The steam from their cups drifted up and congregated around the hanging lamp, making everything seem hazy.

In her mid thirties, Konan was the youngest of the council members assembled, though her disguise, Ōkita, appeared older. Most council members were in their late forties, and Ikuya -the Head of Development- hit fifty several weeks ago. All of them showed traces of the war. Some had scars, but others showed it in their empty eyes and in the hard lines of their faces. All of the council members fought along with the Akatsuki in the civil war years ago. They were some of the few that remembered Pain and Konan were humans, no matter how hard they tried to convince them otherwise. Of course, none of their war-time performances had been spectacular enough to gain them entrance to the Akatsuki, but all of the Akatsuki members from back then had died. All except her.

Yahiko, Kyusuke, Daibutsu, Souta, Takumi, Masato, Nanami, Yui, Hiroto, Taisei, Taro, Minoru, and countless others. Most hadn't even left bodies behind to bury. The only evidence they ever existed was a name on a scroll she had tucked away somewhere. She only opened it when she needed to write down another name. Most recently had been Nagato's, and if all went according to plan, his would be the last.

Amegakure's council was a necessary evil. It would've been preferable for Konan to run everything by herself, but it was impossible to manage all of that without parts slipping. Nagato had always been careful to keep the council servant to Pain. He was the ultimate authority in Amegakure, and Konan planned to keep it that way.

"What do you think, Ōkita?" asked Ikuya. Konan snapped out of her thoughts, refocusing on the old man. She hadn't been paying attention.

"See, there! Ōkita sides with me!" he claimed happily, taking Konan's silence as some sort of answer and swigging the last of his tea.

"I still do not think it is wise, Ikuya! Listen to reason!" demanded Saaya.

"If we refuse," the Head of Defense added, "the countries will be even more suspicious."

"If we accept, they'll find out anyways! We can't keep a war secret forever!" said Ikuya, slamming his fist on the table. "I fought a war for freedom! Not so I could go back to hiding in the shadows of paranoid leaders! _Pain_ is no better than Hanzo!"

"Ikuya!" warned Saaya. He was bridging on heresy.

"No, you listen!" Ikuya interrupted, "I'm the Head of Development. Raw materials have to come from somewhere. I'm in constant communication with foreigners. I _hear_ rumors. It appears our dear _God_ has been up to some things," Ikuya said.

The other council members sat quietly, unwilling to urge him to continue, but at the same time curious enough to not silence him. Konan studied Ikuya. What did he know? Ikuya had been an excellent Head of Development; it would be a shame if he had to be eliminated.

Taking their silence as affirmation, Ikuya continued, "I trust most of you know the Akatsuki didn't disband after the war—"

"Ikuya, even the villagers know that," Saaya interjected.

"Yes yes," Ikuya waved it off, "_but_, do you know what the Akatsuki has been doing recently?"

Silence.

"They've been—"

"I'm sure," Konan said cutting him off, this was going too far, "whatever Lord Pain has done, protecting Amegakure was always his aim." A few other council members nodded sagely, sipping their lukewarm tea.

"Ōkita," Ikuya said, shaking his head mournfully, "always the loyalist. You should know all this, being Head of Foreign Affairs, after all—"

"Sorry to interrupt all of Ikuya's conspiracy theories, but I have a game of shogi promised to my nephew this afternoon," said the Treasurer, downing the rest of his tea. "Might we get back to the matter at hand?"

"Yes!" said Saaya gratefully, casting a reproachful glance at Ikuya.

"Fine fine," Ikuya said, rubbing his forehead, "let's move straight to a vote."

"I'll have to object, Ikuya!" Saaya said, "The fate of the village depends on this decision. I think it requires further evaluation."

Konan tensed. The fate of the village? She still had no idea what they were talking about.

The Head of Defense sighed deeply, massaging his temples in circular motions. "Let's review what we know so far."

"Iwagakure has demanded we host the next chūnin exams. If we refuse, it'll look like we have something to hide, but if we accept, they may very well find out what we're trying to hide," Saaya said.

"Iwagakure? I thought all the Kages had been called away for a summit in the Land of Iron. They shouldn't be in a position to make political demands with their leader absent," Konan said.

"The five Kages have called a meeting? What's going on out there, Ōkita!?" Ikuya questioned.

"I don't know anymore," Konan said quietly, "but I know it doesn't involve Amegakure," she lied.

Saaya nodded in agreement, but Ikuya frowned.

"What would you advise then, Ōkita? About Iwagakure's demand," asked the Treasurer.

Ikuya cut in before Konan could answer, "We've held the chūnin exams before without issue. I don't understand why now—!"

"Because we prepared two years in advance for that," blurted the Head of Defense. "Really, Ikuya, I don't understand why you can't grasp this."

"Seven years ago," Konan continued calmly, "we hosted the chūnin exams to dispel the other villages' suspicion. If you'll recall, we set up most of the facilities _outside_ the city's border. I can only think of a few times when foreigners came inside the city, and when they did they were screened beforehand."

"And we controlled where they went in the city," added the Head of Defense, receiving a glare from Ikuya in return. Not caring, he continued, "Through careful planning and preparation, we managed to keep out civil war a secret despite the amount of enemy shinobi right outside our gates."

"I never thought they'd want to hold the exams here again," mumbled Saaya. She sighed. Despite only being in her late forties, gray hair was already blossoming from her temples. Probably from the stress.

"A decision must be made," prompted the Treasurer, who obviously still had the shogi game on his mind.

"I—" Ikuya started, but Konan cut him off.

"I will attempt to find the Lady Angel and ask her to send this matter up to Pain," she said.

"Always the loyalist," Ikuya muttered, but Saaya and the other Heads nodded in approval at her suggestion.

"Well," said the Treasurer, pushing on the table to help himself up, "I must be leaving now. I have an appointment to uphold," he finished, pushing himself off the floor.

"Wait!" Konan called. The other five shinobi paused, watching her curiously. As herself, Konan rarely made outburst like that, and her alias Ōkita was no different. Intrigued, the Treasurer sat back down, waiting for her to continue.

"Ōkita?" Saaya prompted, laying a calloused hand on Konan's shoulder.

"There is a conflict going on outside our borders," Konan said slowly.

"Ha! I knew it!" cried Ikuya, which only earned him an elbow in the ribs.

Konan continued, "So far, it has been contained to the Land of Iron, but—"

"Land of Iron? Why in the world are shinobi fighting in the Land of Iron!?" cried Ikuya, but the Head of Defense only elbowed him in the ribs again. Saaya glared at Ikuya, and gestured for Konan to keep going.

"I don't predict it will reach Amegakure. Even so, if…if I go missing… I need you to read these," Konan said, withdrawing five scrolls from her coat, and handing them to each council member. Ikuya, predictably, tried to open his immediately, but couldn't. She had placed a chakra lock on the scrolls, so only if she was out of chakra, could they open them. The only way she'd be out of chakra was if she was unconscious or dead.

"Ōkita?" Saaya asked quietly, concern written on her face. "Can't you tell us what's going on?"

Konan shook her head, "The scroll has all you need to know."

Ikuya frowned, glaring at the scroll, but Saaya nodded. With that the Treasurer pushed himself up again and headed for the door. Konan followed, hoping to slip away and return to her work.

"Ōkita, wait!" cried Saaya, hurriedly catching up. Konan breathed deeply, trying to fight the frustration.

"Yes?" was the best she could manage while still remaining civil.

"Have a nice day," Saaya said, smiling so her cheeks made her faint crow's feet deeper.

"Yes, thank you," Konan mumbled, caught off guard by Saaya's niceties for the umpteenth time. "To you as well."

Saaya smiled one last time before vanishing into the misty rain; it had intensified during their meeting. The droplets exploded on the ground, sending little drops back to soak into Konan's leg. She hadn't yet released her transformation, and couldn't feel it through the thick paper coating.

Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, Konan slipped into the alley adjacent to the tea shop, deftly navigating her way through Amegakure's labyrinth of alleyways. After a few minutes of seemingly random turns, she paused, cocking her head slightly. Her muscles tensed and her hand brushed her right thigh where her kunai holster normally would've been. Unfortunately, her alias Ōkita didn't wear the village's standard ninja wear.

Adrenaline starting coursing through her arteries and veins. Konan took a few steps forward. There! There is was again! Faint footsteps! She could hear the soft splash every step. Konan stopped abruptly, and the footsteps tried to do the same, but their delay time was enough to confirm her suspicion and calm her heart. She _was_ being followed, but it certainly wasn't by Madara. He wouldn't make rookie mistakes like that.

Bringing her hands in front of her body so the pursuer couldn't see, Konan flicked her wrist. Several of her spying butterflies changed direction, drifting towards the alley. Her paper creations drifted overhead, allowing her to sense the chakra of all life forms nearby. There! About five meters behind her.

With inhuman speed, she launched a barrage of shuriken. A shadow tumbled out into plain view. With a series of thunks the shuriken embedded themselves into the crate where he had been hiding.

"What is the meaning of this, Ikuya?" Konan asked, eyes cold.

The shinobi smirked. "Oh, I think you know."

"You're going to have to be more specific," she said, her words barely carrying over the rain.

Either Ikuya didn't hear or didn't care to elaborate, but he flipped up his hands, performing a series of complex hand signs in rapid succession. She recognized that combination, and he'd have to try much harder.

Ikuya spit out a stream of oil that flames immediately consumed. The burning ball rushed towards her, but Konan bent her knees, funneling her chakra to her feet for a jump large enough to clear the flaming missile.

What‽ She couldn't move. Konan's head snapped towards the ground. A watery syrup covered the ground, adhering to the bottoms of her shoes and preventing her from making the jump. It was too late.

The tendrils of flames swelled and consumed her. As her entire body vanished into the scorching depths, Ikuya smirked. That was the end of that.

A sheet of paper, no bigger than an index card, sped past his head, slicing the carotid artery on his exposed neck. Ikuya gave out a cry and stumbled forward before catching himself, sending a gloved hand to clutch at the injury and stop some of the bleeding.

Yards away a dark figure stepped out of the blazing inferno, the last of her disguise floating to the wet ground.

"No!" Ikuya growled, sending several more kunai towards her.

She slipped out of their paths with practiced ease. It was almost subconscious now. The last one was aimed directly has her head, so she leaned back, allowing it to pass harmlessly centimeters above her face.

Ikuya smirked. Paper bomb.

Konan stared at the piece of paper flying directly over her face. Without thinking, she twisted her body, arm flashing towards the kunai, and grabbed it. She flung it back towards Ikuya, and it exploded in mid-air.

"I really am slipping," Konan murmured.

Ikuya snarled, and tried stumbling away. With a single finger, Konan sent a barrage of paper to wrap around his legs, stopping his escape.

She walked over to him. He'd already lost several ounces of blood from his neck, and it was visibly affecting him. Ikuya swayed unsteadily, grasping at a nonexistent wall for support.

"Why?" she could help herself from asking.

"Living in fear of a false god isn't the freedom I fought for," he spat. Blood soaked his entire hand, every moment seeping further into his clothes. The constant rain washed some of it off, creating a weak trail of crimson where he stood. Ikuya sank to his knees, unable to stand any longer.

With a rotation of the wrist, Konan sent another sheet flying, severing his jugular vein, causing him to bleed out even faster. Despite his betrayal, Ikuya served Amegakure well over the years, so it was out of mercy Konan decided to give him a quicker death.

Ikuya fell to the ground, half of his face pressed into the wet concrete. He stared up at her as the sanguine pool surrounding him widened. "I…liked… Ōkita…more," he managed with several labored breaths.

"Me too," Konan whispered as Ikuya's chest ceased heaving. She sighed turning away from the cadaver, letting her pieces of paper wrap his body until he was covered.

"Sometimes… " she said quietly to the corpse, "I think all of this fighting has been pointless… Either way my friends die… We -Nagato, Yahiko, and I- have made many mistakes in our pursuit of peace… But there are people out there who will change the world. People like him have the power to break the cycle," she said, reflecting on the blond hero of Konoha. Ikuya didn't reply.

She bent down, plucking his scroll off the ground. In it lay a comprehensive history of the Akatsuki for the council member's eyes only, and only if she had been defeated. She even went as far back as when she, Nagato, and Yahiko were orphans. She talked about Jiraiya, the early days of the Akatsuki, Yahiko's death, Nagato's blood-drenched quest for vengeance, the civil war, and even mentioned the Akatsuki's last incarnation: a band of ruthless killers played by Madara like a violin. She stressed the importance of Jiraiya's, Yahiko's, Nagato's and lastly, Naruto's ideals, mentioning briefly how Amegakure might have been different if they had clung to them after Yahiko's death. She didn't play down her own role in the events. Her hands were as bloody as any other member's. She'd been swept up along with Nagato in Madara's world of ideals and symbolism, and she was going to end it.

Konan raised her hands, palms to the clouds, causing a flock of paper to swarm around her, coalescing into two large wings capable of flight. She beat them at the ground, eventually catching the air underneath. The ground zoomed away and she zipped through the air. She manipulated the chakra inside her paper to carry Ikuya's corpse to the lake and dump him there like she had with so many others.

The clouds emptied themselves of rain, sending it down in droves. It hammered against Konan as she flew, stinging her face. She didn't mind though. It almost felt like it was washing her sins away, but she knew that was a fantasy.

Pain's tower jabbed into the sky, always the most striking silhouette of the city. With an inaudible thud, she landed on top of the South Tower. Pausing for a minute, she connected with the nearby butterflies, searching for any other presence. No one. Assuaged, she pulled open the heavy metal door and vanished inside.

An outsider couldn't have told the South Tower's interior apart from the Main or North's. It possessed the same mix of water-damaged wood and mottled metal plating. Same pipes that ran vertically down the walls. Same sets of long stairs with unmarked doors. Of course, Konan could tell

A paper fluttered through the window, and she snatched it out of the air, eyes drifting across the page. It was a message from one of her subordinates at the shipping company. Her last shipment was in place. Now all she had to do was wait for him.

Konan knew Madara would come; it was only a question of when. She bounded down the stairs. During those fifteen years she hadn't sat idly by, although that was a common perception. She hadn't bothered to correct it either. One of her greatest skills was luring the enemy into complacency. Stand by quietly, talk little, do whatever Nagato ordered. Over the years she'd watched Madara relax during his visits. Of course, he was always attentive with Nagato or any of the Pains, but whenever they left his actions became a little less crisp, and a little slower. It was such a minute change, she doubted he even knew he was doing it, but she did.

He'd underestimated her, and that would kill him.

Konan came to a stop on the staircase, turning to an empty wall. The wall shimmered, small colored pieces of paper becoming visible as they parted. With a flick of her hand Konan released the jutsu, and the rest of the paper wall came down, revealing a gaping hole that led to a large empty room. Konan had many of these fake walls scattered throughout Amegakure, throughout the Land of Rain, in fact, but over the past week she taken them down. They required a constant flow of chakra, and no matter how minuscule that amount was she needed all her strength.

This wall in particular hid one of her safe rooms. She had it even before Yahiko died. Though both Nagato and Yahiko knew about the room, it served as a safe place to practice experiment with her jutsu out of sight.

Back then there were always Akatsuki members running around the tower. After Yahiko's death and the massacre of most the members, Pain's Tower was still full. Bustling with war-damaged people wearing Akatsuki cloaks that wanted to see Hanzo dead. The civil war cut deeply into their numbers. After Hanzo's regime fell, members started going on foreign missions, and less and less came back. Soon it was only her and Nagato in the tower, but even then you could hear the footsteps of the Paths of Pain echoing off the metal walls and even the occasional conversation. Now it was empty, a husk of what it used to be, like the Akatsuki itself.

She had felt the loss of the recent members, though it wasn't nearly as personal. None of the newer members cared about peace. Each one used the organization to further their own aims, and the organization used them equally.

After so many years of losing precious people, her sensation of loss had deadened. She grieved over Nagato, and still wasn't done mourning, but for the greater good, she pushed those emotions aside for the upcoming battle. As for the other Akatsuki members, it was more remorse over losing a powerful shogi piece, rather than losing a human being. Who was left now? After severing her ties with the current Akatsuki, she hadn't heard anything from Kisame. He could've been killed already. Zetsu was a mystery, but he rarely fought himself. She didn't think he would last much longer either. That left two, Madara and her.

Soon there would only be one.

She stepped into the gaping hole, over the piles of paper that until recently constituted a wall. The room was medium sized, lit by several flickering electrical lights suspended from the ceiling. Oil lamps weren't an option here, because although coating her paper in oil made it immune to water the price was increased flammability. There was small table pushed to the side where she spent countless hours folding sheets of paper. The table, floor, and ceiling were full of narrow cuts from years of housing her jutsu. The left wall was marred by a deep, several foot long hole from the day she accidentally discovered her Paper Chakram Technique.

Recently, however the room served another purpose: the production of explosive tags. Even before Nagato betrayed Madara, Konan had prepared copious amounts of the explosives. They added an extra lethality to her jutsu, and were generally useful to have around. After Nagato betrayed Madara, Konan had increased production dramatically.

Over the years she had watched Madara, watched how he slipped through solid matter, and teleported it somehow. When he teleported himself there was always a slight lag that didn't happen when he teleported other objects. Assumedly because teleporting himself required higher precision. She didn't fully understand how he managed to teleport, but guessed it was linked to his Sharingan, and like most of the Sharingan-based moves, his teleportation jutsu seemed to have a high chakra drain. Even the great Madara could only continuously teleport for five minutes.

Her first plan was suicide. She would fill herself with explosive tags and attack him. For the split-second he teleported, he turned solid. Right at that moment she would detonate herself, and, in a best case scenario, take Madara with her.

In all likelihood, that won't work. Madara had more tricks than he let on, and it was a good bet one of them could save him from the blast. Konan knew she needed to plan further. That was why, ever since Nagato's death, she had ten paper clones making explosive tags twenty-four hours a day in this room. Still, that wasn't enough. If she calculated right, she needed at least three hundred billion to last the five minutes she needed, and the clones simply couldn't keep up. She was forced to outsource. The Akatsuki still had subordinates in the Land of Rivers, so she contracted them to make more.

The shipping order she had received moments ago had told her the last batch of tags had been delivered. She released her paper clones that morning, trying to conserve as much chakra as she could. He could come any day now, and she was finally ready. Six hundred billion explosive tags lay at the bottom of Amegakure's lake. Twice as many as she needed, but overestimating Madara would be safer than underestimating him.

Originally, she wanted to attach the explosive tags to a summoning jutsu and make it a portable attack, but as the number of tags grew, it became impossible. The chakra drain from the summoning would leave her too low to detonate the tags. For that reason, she ordered the tags dumped into the lake. They waited harmlessly at the bottom, and would until she pulled them forth from the black depths. The battle _had_ to take place in Amegakure. As soon as it was over, she could help Naruto on his quest for peace, maybe start to undo the damage the Akatsuki had done.

Konan took one last look around her old practice room before heading to the corner. Several explosive tags sat stacked on the table. She gathered them in her arms, allowing them to fuse with her body.

She took a deep breath, careful to regulate her chakra, keeping it away from the tags. She refused to detonate herself on accident. With that, the preparations were complete. Chakra flowed through her, making every hair stand on end. She hadn't had this much strength in a long time; most of her chakra was bound up in other jutsu around Amegakure, but not anymore. Now the only jutsu receiving her chakra were the surveillance butterflies scattered throughout the city and the flower in her hair. The butterflies weren't optional. She had to know when and where Madara arrived.

She stepped back out of the practice room, flicking off the lights. Thunder boomed outside, shaking the tower, and the smell of rain intensified. Konan continued up the stairs of the South Tower, crossing over in one of the suspended tunnels to the main tower, Pain's Tower.

She let her body take control as her mind sunk into its thoughts, and before she knew it, she was standing at the top again, looking out at Amegakure through the mouth of the large metal statue.

"So Iwagakure wants to hold the chūnin exams here?" she mused. Maybe she could say the electricity issues were too bad, but they could host them once it was fixed? That could buy her some extra time to prepare.

She sighed. Nagato would know what to do in this situation. At the very least they could trade ideas.

"I should visit them," Konan said to no one. She hadn't made her daily visit to the shrine yet, and now that—

Konan froze. She felt it. Madara's chakra was nearing.

Her heart beat wildly as she ran out onto the platform, overlooking Amegakure. She jumped into the wet oblivion, loathe to use chakra to meet him. As she bounded through Amegakure towards the lake, she felt her body tensing, heart racing faster and faster. It'd been a long time since she'd felt worried about a battle. She paused for a moment on top of a slanted roof, laying a hand over her chest, forcing her heart to slow. This battle could decide the course of history, and she needed to think clearly for it. She thought of Nagato and Yahiko, and all they sacrificed for their ideals. It was her turn now to support those ideals.

With once last leap, she landed on a pipe in the middle of the lake, rain pounding down on her head. She felt the explosive tags in her body quiver in anticipation. This was it.

"Looks like you won't just tell me where the Rinnegan…where Nagato is hidden…"

"I knew you would come. I've been waiting to finish you off."

* * *

**A/N: **Well, there you go. I stuck to canon as much as possible, but since there is so little canon information on Amegakure I had to fill in a few gaps. (Timeline stuff, the name of the nation Amegakure resides in, etc.)

Critique = Love


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